


Love-locked In An Overflow

by peterscanavino



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, a fever-struck sonny, an attempt at light angst, and a bad one at that, and rafael feels the strange obligation to make him feel better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 02:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11704986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterscanavino/pseuds/peterscanavino
Summary: Sonny and Rafael, on an early morning lead by pure serendipity.





	Love-locked In An Overflow

**Author's Note:**

> This story is very messy, the draft's over 2 months old and I just finished it half an hour ago. Hopefully it's not (too) tangled. Unbeta-ed as per usual, so who knows how many ungodly mistakes are in here. Title derived from Oh Wonder's Landslide.

Carisi was vigorously rubbing his eyes with his palms, as he leaned back in his chair. He's been feeling out of it for the last four days, but today feels the worse.

"Crap", Carisi murmured softly. He then went and stuck his hands in between his thighs — a weird habit but he just wanted warm hands. He's already rolled down his sleeves all the way, cringing at how wrinkled they were but there was nothing he could do with them at this point. He sighed softly, he's pretty sure this was all because of that time when he went running through a heavy drizzle on his way back to his apartment rather than hailing a cab. _"It's just a little rain"_ were the exact words he mumbled to himself before sprinting through said rain. Carisi was so convinced that a little shower of rain wouldn't do much harm.

Oh, how wrong he was.

The bullpen was mostly empty at this hour in the night, except for a few others who decided on doing some more pending paperwork — including Carisi. He'd closed his eyes earlier when he leaned into his chair, and cranked one tired eye open to glance at the sizeable stack of papers and reports yet to be touched on the top right corner of his desk. He has messed up on quite a few reports — information getting left out or typos that seem to just pop out of nowhere. _"Carisi, have you even proofread any of these? Barba asked for these reports by tomorrow, you know? Is there something wrong?"_ , Olivia's concerned words echoed back into his memory. Carisi didn't want to make such a huge deal of his currently deteriating health, and so just shrugged absentmindedly as a response. _"Yeah, no, sorry Lieu. My bad, I'll do them again."_

Carisi felt like crying. He genuinely hated this so much.

Through the panging headache he was experiencing, Carisi pushed himself to lean back towards the desk and continued doing some more desk work. His hand shook when he's holding a pen, and Carisi wonders how he's survived the last few days keeping this troublesome flu on the down low. He took a deep breath, sniffling — maybe it's due to the fact that he didn't have a stuffy nose the past three days. Yeah.

The only thing that keeps him persevering through all this was his fear of irritating Barba even more. Carisi was well aware of how much he seemed to annoy the ADA on the reg — even if that was never his intention in the first place. Barba was one of the people Carisi admired the most, despite how recently they've met. Barba just seemed so refined and professional and classy and everything Carisi isn't. He couldn't help but to constantly seek approval from the prosecutor, relentlessly so even with Barba shooting him down with every snarky comment.

Just so that Barba could acknowledge him — _hell_ , he'd be grateful if Barba even flashed the smallest of smiles at him.

(Carisi knows his puppy crush is starting to get overboard.)

He twisted and turned uncomfortably in his seat, and within the next five minutes Carisi already had his head rested on his desk, cushioned by one arm as his other hand continued writing (albeit, terribly so — a 10 year old was more likely to have neater handwriting than himself at that time). Soon enough, his hand gave up when the throbbing in his head worsened significantly, a groan emitting from his lips as Carisi let his eyelids drop in exhaustion. He knew he didn't really have the time to take a quick break if he wanted to finish this by tonight, but the chilly tremors that kept running down his spine and the clammy feeling eventually rendered him useless. Carisi couldn't manage a steady hand even if he wanted to.

Cluttered desk be damned as he soon slipped into unconciousness, face tucked in the crook of his elbow.

 

* * *

 

Barba heaved a sigh as he stepped out of the elevator at the precinct. It's well late in the night, he knew that. He also knew that Liv was probably at home by now, putting Noah to sleep — or even sleeping herself. He knew that, he wasn't an idiot.

Nevertheless, he started to walk into the bullpen, hand ready to take out some files from his briefcase to leave in Liv's office before he could go home and get some sleep himself (although Barba was convinced that he'd be elbow deep in paperwork in the next few hours, he tends to overwork himself like that. He blames all the coffee he had earlier for keeping him awake).

He's figured that the station's most likely empty by now, meaning he can save himself the trouble of having to make trivial conversations with any of the detectives. Barba strides in, expecting to see empty work desks only to face with a certain lanky, newly-added detective literally nose deep in reports.

He almost snorts at the pitiful display. "Detective", Barba called, gingerly making his way over to Carisi's desk, brows furrowing due to the lack of response he got. "Carisi", he tries again, slightly louder this time. Carisi still hasn't acknowledged his presence, which was peculiar. The junior detective would usually perk up each time Barba said something — although, he can pretty much agree that this isn't the usual, Carisi seemed to be the only one here left, and the guy's passed out at his desk.

It also struck to Barba that he had came here with the hope of a simple, quiet file delivery, and yet here he was trying to wake up one of the most loudest people he's ever met. Still, he couldn't help but let a jolt of concern rise up.

"Detective, if you want to have your beauty sleep, do it at home", Barba reprimanded, free hand nudging the detective's shoulder and jostling him. All he got in return was a weak — was that a whimper? — and a little hiss, Carisi shuffling slightly and Barba crinkled his nose at the sudden sniffling sound he hears. Carisi didn't look up, all he did was move a bit and then he became motionless again. Was he _that_ tired? Why was he still here, then? Barba isn't saying that he's kind of worried about Carisi but...

He's kind of worried about Carisi.

"Carisi, it's late, go home", he says, taking a more softer tone than before. His briefcase now sat on Carisi's desk, and Barba paid some attention to the strewn papers, made sure he didn't make things messier than they already were. Finally, Carisi seemed to hear him this time and looked up from his arm, bloodshot eyes squinting at Barba. "C-Counselor? What are you doing here?"

Barba all but bit his lower lip. Carisi sounded so weak, that was the slowest he's ever spoken since he met with the detective. Carisi didn't completely get up, his face was still partially hidden by his arm — but Barba was a very attentive man, and he couldn't just ignore the red flush creeping onto Carisi's cheeks.

"I was just going to send over some files to Liv's office. What are _you_ still doing here, detective?"  
"Re-reports. I'm working on them. You.. you need them by tom-tomorrow, right? I'll get them done."

Barba looked Carisi, a small frown threatening to tug at the corners of his lips. He _was_ pretty irritated when Liv said that the reports were messed up again, even thoroughly complained to her about how perhaps her new detective wasn't really suitable for SVU. About how Carisi was constantly rambling like he was already a lawyer. About whether or not she really trusts a cop from Staten Island that couldn't manage to last somewhere more than a couple of months.

Barba felt a tinge of guilt in his stomach. Was Carisi doing this because Barba said he wanted to look at these reports the next day? Is he doing this because Barba was the one who wanted them? He could ask for them at a later time—

"M'sorry for all the mistakes. Sorry I annoyed you", Carisi's weak voice cut through Barba's thoughts. He started to sit back up and Barba could now see his full face, and couldn't deny how he felt his heart ache. Carisi's face was dusted with hot pink, a thin sheen of sweat had formed on his forehead, not to mention that Barba could _hear_ how bad his nose was, and— were his eyes glassy?

Carisi looked up to face Barba with a sheepish smile, but it did nothing other than causing Barba's frown to grow. Carisi didn't see it, he quickly turned back to face the litany of papers on the desk surface. He caught Carisi's small sigh as he raked a hand through dirty blond locks.

Carisi wasn't okay, he knew this. And for some reason it bothered him.

Carisi's pretending he's fine, and he's bad at it.

"You're sick", Barba goes straight to the point, the look he's sending the detective resembled more of a glare at this point. He raised a brow when Carisi looked at him, an innocent facade plastered on his face but his flushed features left no room for that to be convincible. "You're not fooling anybody, detective", he said flatly, crossing his arms. He didn't give Carisi a chance to deny Barba's comment when he reached out a hand to touch his forehead.

Barba pursed his lips, "You're heating up. You're clearly unwell, detective", he retracts his hand. "What were you thinking, coming to work in this condition? No wonder why your recent paperwork is terrible", Barba didn't want to show Carisi how he truly felt — that would be like him opening up to the other, and God forbid that Rafael Barba showed such a caring side of himself. Especially to someone like Carisi, whom he _also_ just met several weeks ago.

Carisi's face morphed into an expression of guilt, causing Barba to rethink his words — had he been too harsh? Should've he—

"I can't go ho-home yet", he shook his head, not even bothering to mask how he felt anymore. "I promised the Lieu that I'd get them to you by tomorrow. I can't let her down anymore", Carisi looked at his feet, and his hands were nervously wringing the already-ruined sleeves of his button-up. Carisi was pouting, bottom lip jutting out and if he hadn't looked so miserable, Barba might've admitted that Carisi looked cute. _Might've_.

"I can't let _you_ down anymore", he added, softer than before. Barba didn't say anything, just looked at the detective, who was still hunched down, as if Carisi was curling in on himself. He stared at him, at Carisi, who was forcing himself to work even when he was clearly under the weather. Who said he was doing this this because he didn't want to let his superiors down, Olivia and _him_ in particular.

Carisi's words settled in Barba's thoughts. He didn't want to dissappoint Barba anymore, Carisi was afraid that he might get mad at him again. A pang of guilt and sadness ran through Barba. Had Carisi always felt this way? Like everyone saw nothing in him, and that he had to prove himself useful by pushing himself to stay at work until the early mornings. He was upset to admit that he was most likely one of those 'everyone' to Carisi, and the detective had made it clear enough that Barba was one of his biggest influences ever since the day they met.

The times when he sent those snarky jabs over to Carisi came to Barba's mind, and he realized now how he probably looked down at the new guy early on, and how he thought that some student from Fordham didn't have the right to be giving any legal insights to a high and mighty ADA like himself was too harsh. Barba wasn't thinking of how the other felt each and every time he acted mean to him, Carisi's whole entire being was considered irrelevant and at that thought he internally winces.

It just dawned to him that essentially, his behaviour towards Carisi was what's causing him stay at the station at such an ungodly hour.

Shit. Barba owed Carisi a heartfelt apology later. Right now, he needed to get Carisi home and resting.

"Come on, that's enough for tonight. I don't need those tomorrow", Barba breaks the defeaning silence that filled the air. He gently tugged on Carisi's arm, which made him look up with widening eyes. He couldn't blame him — Rafael Barba being this gentle with anyone was a rare occasion. Carisi's lips parted subtlely, and his brows were furrowed together now. "You- What? You sure, counselor?", he asked, the raspy voice was enough to fully convince Barba that he didn't need those papers by the next day.

"Yes, come on. You need rest, Carisi. It's way too late, I'll drive you home. Stop by a pharmacy on the way to get some meds for that fever."

Carisi was stunned to hear Barba talk that gently — to _him_ , out of all people. He didn't get a chance to protest — either that he could still do some more work or that Barba didn't have to give him a lift home — when the attorney was already walking away from his desk, quickly taking something out of his briefcase and dropping by the lieutenant's office. He came out seconds later, giving a small nod at Carisi as a ' _come on, let's go_ '. He hurriedly took his book bag from under the table and sauntered to where Barba was standing — earlier headache still not completely gone yet.

He saw Barba move his gaze towards the bag, an eyebrow lifting. "Never sought you for the type to bring one of those to work, detective". Carisi shifted under his gaze, a shy smile on his face. _Now that certainly was an improvement from the hurt expression earlier_. Barba felt a small flutter in his heart, knowing that he's at least managed to lighten Carisi's spirits, even just a little (though he can attest that he's never felt those flutters before).

And no, he didn't want to think why.

"Yeah, no. I've.. I've just got some textbooks in here, thought I would've had extra time to study", Carisi explained, clearing his throat after. Barba didn't want to strain his voice more than it was already, so he said nothing and just led them out. They walked for a few minutes before finally reaching Barba's car — Carisi thought that Barba didn't own one, not because Barba couldn't afford one (hell, he's pretty sure Barba's suits cost more than his apartment rent), but he just never saw him drive. He'd thought that Barba was one of those rich people who only rode Uber or something.

His car — just like the owner — was nothing short of fancy. It was a sleek black Porsche, Carisi doesn't know what specific model it was but it sure looked classy. A fitting match for a classy man like Barba, Carisi thought to himself.

"I don't usually let other people inside my car, excluding my mother, so consider this a luxurious miracle", Barba comments casually, lips threatening to smirk. He sees Carisi shuffling his bag around, looking hesitant and _no no, that's not what he wanted_ , and so goes as far as to open the passenger door to convince the other that he's welcomed inside. He thinks that maybe he could cut the snark for Carisi short tonight.

"Go ahead, princess", he teases in a more affectionate way rather than spiteful (also something he never thought he would've done, but he'll let it slide for now). Carisi blushed more, pink spreading towards his neck as he steps inside the car with slow jerky steps. Barba closed the door back and moves over to the driver's side, he couldn't help but spare another look at his passenger. The duffel bag was in his lap now, but Carisi's hands were tangled in the straps and wouldn't stop fidgeting — giving away the fact that he was still nervous about this.

(What Barba didn't know was how hard Carisi's heart was beating right then and there.)

Barba opened his mouth to reassure him, but Carisi caught him to the chase.

"I'm sorry. About this." Barba raised his brows in confusion, Carisi didn't have to apologize for anything.

"About what?"  
"This.. All of this. I mean, you said it yourself, counselor, you do-don't usually give people rides, and I'm pretty sure you'd rather have anyone else rather than me here right now. And you.. I could just go the the pharmacy tomorrow, you don't have to bother. I'm pretty sure you would be lounging at your place if it weren't for me. So, yeah. I'm sorry. F-for taking up your time."

Carisi sneezed — which reminded Barba of a kitten sneeze more than anything, and it affected Barba more than he thought it would — and rubbed his pink nose afterwards, and all Barba felt like doing at that moment was just to hug and coddle him until Carisi was all smiles again.

If someone said he'd be thinking of Carisi like that earlier today, he honestly would've flipped them off.

"Carisi, if I honestly didn't want you in my car, I wouldn't have offered in the first place. I.. I _want_ to do this, okay? I want to give you a ride home, I want to pick up some meds for you. I want you to feel better, I'm not doing this because I felt obligated to", Barba took a deep breath, Carisi should get that long-deserved apology. Figured now would be the time.

" _I'm_ the one who should be apologizing, for ever making you feel so rejected. I'm sorry for each of the times I said all those nasty things to you. You don't deserve any of that, no matter what I could've said in the past. You're a good detective — more than what you give yourself credit for. You're a promising lawyer-to-be, okay? Sure, you need a little polishing, but you'll get there", he noticed that Carisi's hands were no longer moving and flinching, that's a good sign.

"You're wanted, you've got that? Both in Manhattan SVU and in my car here, right now", Barba didn't know what took over him but he reached a hand out to cover one of Carisi's, thumb tracing soothing circles onto his skin. "I'm sorry."

Carisi didn't realize that he was crying until he felt wet droplets on the back of his hand — the one that Barba wasn't holding. Was this real? Did Barba actually apologizing to him? And he actually said that he was a good detective? Was Barba actually holding his hand right now? Was this surely not one of those weird fever dreams? "I...", he trailed, not really sure on what to say.

Barba's eyes caught on the wet spots falling down onto Carisi's left hand, and he lifted his head to see a teary, flushed and overwhelmed little Dominick Carisi Jr. _Has he always been that young?_

Something was certainly happening with his stomach. It felt like it was flipping, over and over again driving him crazy. He's never felt like this before, and he's only feeling it whenever he looks at Carisi. Earlier-today-Barba would definitely be freaking out over this, but current-Barba didn't really mind this thing. This stomach flipping. The tummy twisting.

(Something inside Barba tells him that it's the butterflies.)

When he finally snapped back to reality, he saw his own hand on Carisi's face, wiping away the tear tracks down his cheeks. When did he do that? Barba didn't have the time to think about it because the gesture only caused Carisi to let out more tears, his breathing turning into short hiccups.

"Hey-hey, it's okay. Shh, everything's alright", he panicked a little, trying to comfort the other in what sounded like a poor attempt at softening his voice. He wasn't good at comforting crying people — kid or not. Carisi continued to cry, though now he was stiffling his sobs a little. Barba wasn't sure whether Carisi realized this or not, but they were properly holding hands now, the detective's grip on his tightening ever so slightly. The next thing Barba did was purely driven by instict — he slowly interlaces his fingers with Carisi's, and he holds onto his hand just as tight. Carisi didn't know what came over him, but he couldn't seem to stop. He'd just never thought Barba — ADA Rafael Barba! — would say anything like that to him, to say that he actually cared about how he felt, no matter how much he wanted it. He tried his best to quiet down his cries, not wanting to embarrass himself more or make Barba more uncomfortable. "S-sorry", he whimpers, but Barba's hand didn't seem to stop wiping away his tears. Wouldn't he want to?

"Don't be", Barba sounded.. soft. He didn't sound like someone who was forced into comforting someone he didn't like. He bravens himself to look at the attorney's face, and watery seafoam orbs met with soft forest green ones. At that moment, Carisi felt like the weight of the world had finally fallen off his shoulders — he was sure that Barba didn't mind this (as far-fetched as it sounds, even now), and that Barba was willingly letting his cuffs wipe of the teardrops down his face, voluntarily trying to comfort a snivelling Sonny Carisi.

All this time, Carisi would never have thought Barba had a softer side to him, let alone a version of him that would whisper soothing words in his ear while he was pitifully sobbing beside him. The kindest he'd imagine the counselor to be was him perhaps begrudgingly admitting that Carisi was in the slightest way right in a case or something.

He never thought this.

"There's nothing you have to worry about. I'm not mad", Barba's soft voice cut Carisi from his thoughts, his gaze once again focusing on how unguarded the usually-uptight lawyer looked. "Don't cry. Your fever's gonna get worse", he continued, putting on a small but affectionate smile. Carisi's heart still pounded, but he manages a tiny grin back, and uses the back of a hand to wipe at his face. "Thanks, Counselor", he says quietly. Barba doesn't need to hear the implied ' _for saying all that to me_ ' to get what Carisi meant.

He doesn't say anything, instead opting to brush back Carisi's hair that fell over his forehead. Carisi must've noticed how hard he was gripping onto Barba's hand, and lets go, his face again dusting with pink. "It's fine, Carisi", amusement laced in his tone as he goes to start the engine, turning the AC up so that Carisi could cool down a little. "I'm going to take you home now, alright?", Barba's voice was hushed, as if he was talking to a small child. Carisi's not feeling well, he doesn't want to tense up the young detective again.

All Carisi could do was nod as a response, conflicting emotions still currently running through himself — anxiety, suprise, delight, and excitement fo something that he was a tiny bit scared to be hopeful for.

(The budding relationship between two star-crossed lovers.)

In the meantime, Barba had already started to drive out to the main road, only to hurriedly turn to his passenger when he let out a little wince.

"Why? Is something the matter, Carisi? Are you hurting?", he asked in almost a frenzied tone, suprising himself with how concerned he sounded.

"No, I..", he's beginning to fumble again. That's not a very good sign.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me", he slows the car down slightly, wanting to be careful in case the other was hurt in some way. A painful migraine, mayb—

"I ruined your shirt, counselor", Carisi says in a remorseful voice, his eyes were glued onto the wet spots on one of Barba's sleeves. A mix of relief and amusement flooded in Barba's chest, _this boy's too soft for his own good_. He turns his focus back on the road, cruising down at a faster pace before clearing his throat.

"Carisi, I want you to listen to me right now. Listen to this. A dirtied sleeve is nothing compared to how bad your condition was. Earlier. I don't want you overworking yourself like that again, okay? Take a day off if you're sick, no matter how stubborn you might be. Don't work when you're sick. Rest. Drink lots of water. Don't come to work. If your Lieutenant tells you to come anyway, tell me. I'll talk to her. You had a really bad fever, still do.

"I could care less about how bad my shirt looks, especially since you could've passed out on your desk for the whole night. My main priority now is bringing you some meds and taking you home. You can cry, you can fall asleep, you can even vomit if you need to for all I care. It doesn't even matter now. I just don't want to see you in so much pain, with nobody taking care of you. Okay?"

A jolt of euphoria hums through his veins. Barba doesn't know where all that came from, how he became so determined to make sure Carisi was alright.

(Actually, he thinks he does. He let down all his walls and let everything flow out from his heart. All the purposely antagonistic jabs out the window. He knew what just went out of his mouth was one of Rafael Barba's most honest, most pure 100% untainted emotions, straight from the heart. No thinking, no room for ' _I can't be too open, I can't seem vulnerable_ ' thoughts.)

Carisi looked so taken aback by his words, his mouth hanging slightly open, his plump pink lips formed a little 'o'.

And for once in his whole life, Barba can silently admit that Carisi looked beautiful without feeling conflicted with himself.

...Not that he's thought about it before. Nope.

"Now let's just get some medicine for that nasty flu, sweetheart."

**Author's Note:**

> This was written way earlier. At that time, I've been referring to them as Barba and Carisi, I didn't have enough willpower to change them to Sonny and Rafael. Hope you guys didn't mind.


End file.
